The Dragonborn and the King: A Skyrim Fanfiction
by elle2215
Summary: Elin, the Last Dragonborn, is destined to defeat Alduin and save Tamriel. Ulfric Stormcloak is destined to defeat the Empire and free Skyrim from the clutches of the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion. Both are destined to be heroes of Skyrim, but what happens when those destinies intertwine? F! Dragonborn/Ulfric Stormcloak
1. Prologue

Note to Readers: This is my very first Fanfiction ever. I welcome any suggestions for improvement and I hope you enjoy it!

Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_. It is copyrighted by Bethesda Softworks and Bethesda Game Studios. All material belongs to them, not me.

My name is Elin. The Dov, the dragons, call me Dovahkiin, but Skyrim and the rest of Tamriel knows me as the Last Dragonborn. My destiny has been carved into Alduin's Wall by the Akaviri at Sky Haven Temple since the First Era. The blood that flows in my veins also flows within my enemy. Alduin. The World-Eater and first-born of Akatosh, has returned to Skyrim, seeking to destroy the world that banished him long ago. I must go to Sovngarde and back to stop him and I am prepared to sacrifice everything to do so.

His name is Ulfric Stormcloak. The true sons and daughters of Skyrim call him the next High King and so do I. His destiny is to liberate Skyrim from the tyranny of the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion, to rebel against the White-Gold Concordat, which is made to enslave us to the will of the Altmer. He is prepared to sacrifice everything so that Skyrim can belong to its people and so that we may choose to worship how we choose.

This is the will of the Divines. It is their will that shows us the way to each other.


	2. Chapter 1: Helgen

Chapter One: Helgen

Disclaimer: I do not own _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_. It is copyrighted to Bethesda Game Studios and Besthesda Softworks. I own nothing

"Your're finally awake?" I heard a deep, male voice ask.

I finally opened my eyes and I realized I was bound. I was riding in a carriage with four others. One was the man who spoke to me, a blonde Nord who was dressed in rebel Stormcloak armor. Another man sat beside him, he was wearing a face of terror. On my right, there was another Nord man. He was not dressed like the Stormcloak soldier that had addressed me. No, he was dressed like he was someone important and carried himself just so, even though he was bound and gagged. I turned back to hear the soldier speaking to me again.

"You were trying to cross the border, right? You walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there." The words sparked the memories I had been clawing at in my mind.

I had recently left my home in Bruma in Cyrodiil a few days earlier after the death of my father. The pain of his recent passing was still raw and it felt painful to think of him.

I had been walking on the road when I encountered the large Stormcloak caravan, carrying the only belongings I had, my two Ebony swords; both gifts from my father when he started training me in the ways of warrior from a young age at the Fighters Guild where we lived. During my isolated childhood, the stories I heard at the guild of the Great War and the Stormcloak rebellion filled my own heart with the notion of myself joining the rebellion.

The Imperials came out of nowhere. Their silver armor flashed before my eyes as they came out of the trees in large numbers. Thinking this was my chance to prove myself, I unsheathed my own blades and had tried to help defend the rebels. I had let my agile body with my lightweight swords, taking advantage of the slow movements of the heavy armor and weapons of the Imperials. I must have fought five or so of them before my head was hit from behind and I lost consciousness.

I have been taken prisoner, I realized, and my fellow prisoners and I were facing execution. By the gods.

I stayed silent as I listened to the horse thief complain that it shouldn't be him and I dying here, that we aren't apart of the rebellion. I was going to open my mouth to contradict him, tell him that I will gladly die for such a cause, but the soldier beat me to it.

"We are all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief," he responded.

"At least if I die, I will know I went to Sovngarde fighting for a cause worth dying for. If you die, you go because of a horse," I added, spitefully.

The man next to me turned his head at my words. His grey, fearless eyes were looked into mine for a moment and I thought I saw admiration in them.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" asked the thief, referring to compelling stranger.

"Watch your tongue, you are speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King," the soldier snapped.

Ulfric Stormcloak. This was a name I knew well. The current Jarl of Windhelm was the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion. He stood for freedom for the Empire, even though he once served as an Imperial soldier himself. I could barely express the awe I felt being in the presence of someone whose ideas have influenced my life so deeply.

I simply said, "It is an honor, Jarl Ulfric, to be in your presence."

He nodded his head at me, expressing his gratitude for my words.

The soldier continued to try and calm our nerves by making talk about our homes. I didn't have one anymore, so I remained silent as the carriage entered Helgen. They called our names, one by one, first Ulfric then the soldier, whose name was revealed to be Ralof. My name wasn't on the list, but the damn Imperials sent me forward anyway. I walked with as much pride as I could muster, unlike the coward horse-thief that just took an arrow to the back running away.

I stood between Ralof and Ulfric. Ralof stared blankly ahead as they executed the first man, not even flinching as the axe removed his friend's head. However, Ulfric didn't watch the execution. He watched me. Was that concern etched into his features? I would never know.

I finally heard my own name called and I knew it was my time to die at the head of the Imperial axe. I kneeled on the ground, closing my eyes, hoping my father would be there to greet me in Sovngarde with my fellow Nord kinsmen.

I heard the swoosh of the axe, ready to swing, but then I felt Nirn shake under me and everything fell out of balance. I heard screams and people yelling. What was happening?

"Dragon!" "Dragon!" "Dragon!"

I turned from where I was still kneeling on the ground, my hands bound. I saw it. A large, black dragon. His red eyes were flaring as he spewed fire at the people flailing in his presence. It was strange, but I admired the fatal beauty of the dragon. Its wingspan must have been longer than Castle Bruma and its scales were blacker than the Ebony of my dual swords.

I felt someone behind me unbind my hands. I turned and was surprised to see Ulfric; whose own binds had been cut. He grabbed my arm and urged me to follow him.

"That tower! Let's go!" He pointed to the stone tower dead ahead of us. Flames were everywhere and it was hard to see in the smoke, but I trusted him to lead me to safety. Talos preserve us.

Ralof was already inside when we ran through and he quickly barricaded the door.

"Thanks," I said, grateful that he just saved me.

"Don't thank me yet, "he replied, his voice deep and raspy.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" exclaimed Ralof.

"Legends don't burn down villages," he answered. "But we don't have time to debate the existence of them. We need to move now."

Ulfric and Ralof decided that we should risk it and make a run for the fort. The Imperials would be too busy with the dragon to notice and as for the dragon, lets just hope it didn't notice us. So we did. I must have prayed to the Gods every second of that hundred feet. Akatosh, Talos, Kynareth, I kept repeating in my mind.

When we finally made it inside, it was by chance that I found a dead Imperial carrying two Ebony swords. I thought they had been taken from me forever. I thanked Talos for being able to hold them in my hands again.

Ralof led us into a secret tunnel he found that led out of the fort into the mountains and I felt myself breathe out a deep sigh of relief. I was alive. We were going to survive.

"What is your name?" Ulfric asked me, as we continued down the stone stairs.

"Elin of Bruma," I replied simply.

"Bruma? I know it well. I had lived there a few times during my service to Empire. Beautiful city, but I am surprised that someone from Cyrodiil is interested in the cause," he said.

"I may have lived in Cyrodiil, but Skyrim is my homeland. It is where I was born. You are foolish if you believe there are those in Cyrodiil that do not side with you. I know my father did," I said.

"Thank you, Elin. You give a man hope in these dark times," he said, I felt thrilled at hearing him say my name.

"Jarl Ulfric, I hope this isn't rude, but why did you save me?" I asked. He hadn't had to and he did not know me.

"As I said before, your words give me hope. Your actions yesterday gave me hope," he said, turning his attention from me back to Ralof.

He must have seen me fighting Imperials yesterday during the ambush. I wanted to talk to him more, but Ralof and Ulfric moved a stone out of the way and I saw sunlight and grass again.

To my own disappointment, Ralof and Ulfric needed to return to Windhelm at once and it was time for us to part ways. Both told me to find them there if I was ready to join the ranks of the Stormcloaks and I told them I would soon. After Ralof gave me directions to Riverwood and his sister, I said my farewells.

I looked forward to the day I would see Ulfric Stormcloak again. I wondered if he would even remember me when that time came. I hoped so.

*Hey readers! Please let me know what you think. I was a little nervous posting this because it is my first FanFic!


	3. Chapter 2: Dragonborn

Chapter Two: Dragonborn

Disclaimer: I do not own _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_. It is copyrighted by Bethesda Softworks and Bethesda Game Studios. All material belongs to them, not me.

Four months have passed since the day I was almost executed at Helgen. I still have not forgotten the promise I made as I had said farewell to Ulfric

Stormcloak and Ralof. If I were being honest, I relived the moment we said goodbye often. My heart yearned to fulfill that promise, perhaps in the hope of

seeing Ulfric again, but I couldn't think about that. Not now.

My destiny is no longer mine to decide, but was it ever?

I am no longer simply Elin of Bruma. I am Dragonborn. The dragons call me Dovahkiin because my soul and my blood are of the Dov, dragonkind, while my

body remains mortal. Or at least the Greybeards and the Blades think so. I still have a hard time believing it or perhaps I just do not want to.

I will never forget the first time I absorbed a dragon's soul at the watchtower outside Helgen. A dragon's soul is extremely strong so the moment it becomes one

with my own is agonizing. It was as if I was on fire yet there was no sign of a burn anywhere on my pale skin. After the pain finally dissipated, I felt new

strength. It was then I heard the call.

" _DOVAHKIIN!"_

The Greybeards had summoned me to High Hrothgar and it was there that I was officially recognized as Dragonborn. The Greybeards, monks that live in

seclusion and study the Thu'um, the tongue of the dragons, were my first teachers.

It was with their guidance that I understood the true power of my gift. By absorbing the souls of dragon, I gain the natural ability to understand their knowledge

of the dragon words of power and I am able to produce them in a shout. If I know all three words of power, the shout is at its most powerful.

However, Master Arngeir and I had a falling out after I learned the truth about the prophecy. It was then that I left the Greybeards and joined the Blades at Sky

Haven Temple at the behest of Delphine and Esbern.

Delphine and Esbern are the leaders of the Blades, a guild of dragonslayers and warriors that once served the Septim emperors. In their minds, I am the

ultimate weapon. I can slay a dragon by exploiting its only weakness. Itself.

It was them that first showed me the Akaviri prophecy. I, the Last Dragonborn, must slay Alduin if there was any hope for the survival of humanity. It was here

that Master Arngeir and I had our disagreement. He does not believe in the prophecy and I do. He thinks that there is a peaceful solution to every problem, but

I know that is not true. The civil war is proof of that.

It was now Evening Star in Skyrim. The cold, winter winds were harsh on my face as I swung my Ebony blades at the practice dummy in the courtyard outside

Sky Haven Temple. I was focused on the swishing of my weapons and the constant sound of Ebony hitting wood and straw.

I felt an arm gently grab my shoulder.

"Something is troubling you, young one, " said Esbern, calmly.

I stopped hacking and slashing at the dummy and looked at him. He was an elderly Imperial man with greying hair and aging skin. He must have seen more

than sixty winters. Unlike Delphine, Esbern's age has given him experience and made him less headstrong and rash. I hold him in high esteem for his wisdom

and guidance.

"I have a lot on my mind, " I said. This was an understatement.

"Does it have to do with the prophecy?" he asked. How could I think of anything else? The prophecy is laid out in a great carving that was adjacent to the dining

table inside the temple. Every time I sat to eat a meal I had to be reminded of the heavy weight of a destiny I have not chosen.

"I just don't understand what I am supposed to do. Alduin is called the World Eater for a reason. Maybe the Ancient Nords and the Akaviri were wrong and the

world is supposed to end, " I said.

"Perhaps, "he said, "but I believe that the Last Dragonborn will go down fighting nonetheless. I believe that you were chosen by the Gods for a reason, Elin."

"Delphine doesn't share your faith, "I said.

"Delphine believes in you. She simply fails to realize the responsibility that power likes yours entails," he said. "I believe that you should not be afraid to use

your power, but only when you are ready."

"I don't know if I will ever be ready, "I told him, the uncertainty in my voice evident.

"Only you will know, "he said. "I think that you need time to find yourself, Dragonborn. And living here in seclusion is not the way to do it."

"What are you suggesting?" I asked.

"Live your life for you. Don't live it for Delphine and I or the Blades. For you, " he said. "No one can tell you when you are ready for the final battle. That comes

from within."

"Where should I go?" I asked. He had just given me the greatest gift. Time. Or what little of it there was left.

"I cannot tell you that, " Esbern replied. He began to walk up the stairs that led back to the temple. "But you must make one promise. Keep your identity secret.

No one, not even those you can trust, can know. It is imperative that the Empire and the Thalmor do not learn who the Dragonborn is."

"I promise, " I said. I meant it. And I always keep a promise. It was then I knew where I would go.

I told Delphine and Esbern the next morning my destination. Delphine was furious, saying I was running from my destiny.

"You are leaving to join the Stormcloaks?" she said. "You should be here, not fighting in the Empire's pissing contest with Ulfric."

"Now, Delphine, Elin needs this. She is Dragonborn, but she is still young and needs this time have experiences, "he said, trying to calm her.

"We don't have time. The world could end tomorrow and you are being cowardly and selfish, " she said, storming back through the doors of the temple.

"She will come around. If fighting for the Stormcloaks is what you need, then I support you, " he said.

"Thank you, Esbern. I promise I wont be gone long, "I said. I got on my horse and was ready to leave.

"May the gods watch over you, child, "he said. I gave my horse a kick and then I was flying down the cobbled path, Esbern's form quickly shrinking away behind

me.

I was ready to meet the new challenges that awaited me and I felt my heart soar at the thought of what I would find in Windhelm. Or, more importantly, who I

would find.

*Hey readers! I have been busy with summer school, but I am trying to update as quickly as I can. I hope you are enjoying it!


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